oh my god where do i start. i absolutely love it, every bit of it. minghao and vernon worked soo hard on it and it's so so so clear. there is a complete story and meaning and it's just so cohesive and delicious. the lost youth meaning connecting ever song together. their writing styles contrasting and complementing each other so so well. minghao's more poetic and vernonis direct and raw and they work together so beautifully. it has made me go through many emotions, and i definitely cried (with friend, mia, and rat race). i also really love that they got to work with so many of their friends and producers they admire, that they're so open and grateful about the collaboration that the album is. sigghhhh i just really love it i've had it on loop for two days. i love the styling too, i think they have been able to play around and do a really fun performance. it truly feels like a complete work: music, visuals, style, performance, even the way they're going around promoting it. so special and v8. i love uuuu minghao and vernon <3

The sun is relentless. Jihoon wishes he could take off his shirt, walk around in his shorts only, but he doesn't think the people of Seoul would appreciate that. He keeps fidgeting with his sleeve, feeling uncomfortable against his arm. Eventually he pushes it up, bunching one sleeve around his shoulder so he finally, finally, stops feeling insane about the feeling of the cloth around his arm.

He can finally focus on the world around him. Junhui is still talking. He's jumped into another topic, though, listing his kitchen appliances and what he likes best about each of them. Currently, he's talking about his new hot pot set. It seems like a good place to interject.

"When did you get it?" Jihoon asks, as he spots a convenience store in the corner of the street. They've been walking for what feels like hours now, looking for someplace to eat. Jihoon decides that if he has to wait more for Junhui to decide on a place, he at least needs a cold drink.

"Oh! About a month ago?" Junhui says, stroking his chin in thought. "I can make some for you, whenever you want."

Jihoon chirps, pleased. "Sure."

He directs them to the store, feeling immediately cooled and sticky from the air conditioning. Junhui keeps talking, now describing in detail what he's going to cook for Jihoon, as he waits for him to buy his soda. He drinks it outside, under the shadow of the store overhang. Deliciously refreshed.

"Are you feeling better?" Junhui asks, as he leans against the wall next to Jihoon.

"What do you mean?" Jihoon says, not knowing how to interpret that.

Junhui's smile is slow, the moles dotting his skin stretching with him, "You were overwhelmed. But it's better now, right?"

Jihoon nods, unsurprised. Junhui has always been better at watching him than other people.

"I've decided! Let's just go back to my place. I'll make hotpot." Junhui jumps away from the wall. "That way I can have you where I want you."

Jihoon rolls his eyes, but he's pleased. He frowns though, so Junhui can't sniff it out of him. Even though he definitely knows. "Let's go."

The beam of Junhui's smile is definitely brighter than a hot midday summer sun.

It used to puzzle him. He was not oblivious – he knew what it meant, when someone liked you. What it looked like. He'd just never thought it was something easily accessible to him, at least not as easy as Seungcheol expressed it. Jihoon didn't understand how he could let so much emotion and affection bleed through his eyes. Through the way he looked at Jihoon.

Seungcheol was an open book. He showed his love for Jihoon in gestures that seemed natural to him. Jihoon always felt robotic when he tried. Something off, a note a little lower than it was supposed to be.

It was perfectly fine, feeling the desire of Seungcheol, his weighted gaze, the lingering touches. The proud smiles he threw his way. He was fine waiting.

Jihoon realizes too late, then. When it clicks together – the fact that he is also in love with Seungcheol, and probably has been for a while - he doesn't look back anymore. Too focused holding the hand of Jeonghan, wrapping an arm around him.

Jihoon figures it was a matter of time. Sometimes having to comb through the way his body is feeling and connect it with the emotions they supposedly mean is too hindering. A nuisance. It aches, but he figures Seungcheol felt worse, all these years.